Page 8 of A Nest of Maple & Mist

I wandered through the door to the bathroom, refusing to look in the mirror. I did not need to see the dreadful sight of my ruined makeup staring back at me. Cool water splashed over my cheeks, and I sighed.

With my eyes closed, I fumbled for another handle, hoping to find a towel to wipe my face with. I gasped as the door clicked open. On the other side sat a massive nest.

It was devoid of life, a blank canvas waiting for an omega.

When Jason mentioned having a private guest room to myself, he failed to mention it wasn’t just any room, but an omega suite.

Drops of water slid off my face as I padded over the threshold, my mouth wide. A sunken space took up the middle of the room. The place where a pack bed would sit. Oversized windows filled the room with golden light, illuminating the wooden beams sprawling across the vaulted ceiling.

Nestled between two windows, a velvet-lined bench called to me. I curled up on it, imagining myself snuggled in a blanket, sipping coffee and watching the sunrise with my alpha.

Oh God.

I rushed out of the nest, slamming the door behind me with a loud thud that shuddered the pictures on the wall in the bathroom. Those were not helpful thoughts.

Nope. Scent match or not. This was temporary.

All at once, the physical and emotional toll of the day slammed into me. I crawled into bed, burrowed under the blankets, passing out in my dirty leggings and stained sweater.

A groan rolled over my cracked lips as bright light pushed against my eyes. I yanked a pillow over my face before I shot upright with a jolt. Blinking away the sleep, I scanned the room. The guest room at Jason Hawthorne’s packhouse.

All the events of yesterday came back at once. The rotten house. The tears. The snot. And that delicious aroma of my scent-matched alpha.

“What have I gotten myself into?” I mumbled, clutching the pillow to my chest.

My body ached, and I wearily eyed the door to the bathroom and the nest that lay beyond.

In the corner, four boxes and two tattered suitcases stood against the wall. I had always been a heavy sleeper. My mom regularly said the zombie apocalypse could happen and I’d sleep through it.

Apparently, I also didn’t wake for gorgeous alphas who looked like a tree I wanted to climb bringing in my belongings.

After debating my life choices, I took a hurried shower and changed into a pair of jeans and an oversized sweater. My mind continued to wander to thoughts of my house, making tears well in my eyes.

“Nope. Knock it off. Get it together, Mia.”

I hadn’t cried this much since my parents died.

Sucking in a breath, I tilted my head up and opened the door to the hallway. My steps faltered, and I froze. Outside, a tray of goodies awaited me. A tall thermos stood on the corner with a bowl of berries and a scone that made my mouth water.

My stomach growled, and I laughed.

My greedy little fingers closed around the coffee first, unable to function without one. Sweet waves of vanilla, cardamom, and a hint of caramel hit my tongue. I moaned, my eyes practically rolling into the back of my head.

No one knew what a sugar fiend I was for coffee—except maybe the baristas at the little shop down the street from the collegiate hall that held most of my classes. Most omegas had a bit of a sweet tooth, but I had sweet blood.

I joked with my mom that I was trying to attract sexy vampires with sweet tooths.

My gut twisted with the memory. I shook off the sadness creeping its way up my spine. Instead, I spun the thermos in my hand, curious how Jason knew precisely how I took my coffee.

I carried the tray downstairs, the house quiet enough to hear the cedar creak with each step. Jason and his packmates must have risen early to get to work. While technically off-season for the sugar makers, they must have been busy preparing for the Maple Festival.

When I lived here, it had been my favorite time of year. The treats, the hayrides, the games. I looked forward to it. It wasn’t until now that I realized how much I had missed it in the last five years.

I grabbed the oversized fleece blanket off the couch, tossing it over my shoulder before I padded outside. A smattering of clouds hovered around the sun, leaving a chill in the air. The leaves had started to change, some of the taller maples already shining with hues of orange and red.

Grass brushed under my bare feet as I moved closer to a small pond at the bottom of a hill in the backyard. I laid out my blanket, setting the tray of food on top of it before sprawling out.

Splintered rays of sun warmed my cheeks, and my eyes fluttered, drinking in the pleasant feeling. After another sip of coffee, I took a bite of the scone, moaning.